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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431980">connect (the dots)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/books_and_spite/pseuds/books_and_spite'>books_and_spite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental secret relationship, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Board Games, Connect-4, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, connect-4 as foreplay, connect-fore-play, contains like two six references, referenced destielputinelection, written during november 5-7 2k20 so</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:15:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/books_and_spite/pseuds/books_and_spite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: how the fuck did the class not notice that Thomas and James were dating slash fucking slash whatever the hell that is?</p><p>And why the fuck did they realize over a game of connect-4?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Burr/Theodosia Prevost Burr, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Thomas Jefferson/James Madison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>connect (the dots)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>may i offer you some jeffmads in these trying times?<br/>i know connect-4 isn’t a big thing but i literally spent a week watching and playing it during math class for an hour every day so i was inspired</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>It’s Aaron who finds the connect-4 set in the back of the classroom. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They take it out, and exclaim over it, and before long Hamilton is challenging Angelica to a game of connect-4, and not long after that it devolves into full-out war. Good. It was getting a little chummy, Aaron thinks.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mr. Washington just looks amused at his desk. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron plays his fair share of games, and he manages to beat both Hamilton and Lafayette, which is an Accomplishment with a capital A. He gracefully bows out after Angelica appears, because he’s not stupid. Unlike Hamilton, who promptly gets his ass kicked. Hard.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(He’d be lying if he said that didn’t please him. A lot.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Yeah, fuck Hamilton, honestly.) </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(But not in <em>that</em> way.) </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(In another universe, maybe, if he wasn’t such an insufferable <em>dick.</em>)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He goes back to his seat, next to James Madison. James is... not involved in the game. He’s never involved, really. Stereotypical nerd, keeps to himself, loves reading and math and is an actual certified genius, even in their school for “gifted” kids. He and Aaron are friends, vaguely good ones at that- although James’ only good friend is Thomas Jefferson and the whole class knows it. The two are practically joined at the hip most days.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James looks up from his math book- <em>dear god, who is this teen and why is he so scarily smart- </em>as Aaron sits down, smiling slightly. “Anything fun going on?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron shrugs back. “Not much. Angelica just beat Hamilton into the ground. Lafayette is off flirting with people to distract them, no idea who’s side he’s on. It’s funny, really.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James hums in agreement, before he abruptly slams his book down. “Never mind that. Is that <em>Thomas?”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron turns- oh, dear. Thomas Jefferson is making his way up to the table where the connect-4 board is, because of <em>course</em> he is. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Angelica is the one waiting for a challenger. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He’s fucked,” Aaron says. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James smiles enigmatically. “Maybe not.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron peers at James. “Something I don’t know?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A small laugh is his only answer before James stands to make his way over to the match, taking his book with him. Aaron follows him. He wants to see this. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Angelica is eyeing Thomas like a lion eyeing its prey. “Are you ready for this, Jefferson?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I was born ready, Schuyler,” Thomas shoots back. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Let the games begin,” James says from his place looking over Thomas’ shoulder. “May the odds be <em>ever</em> in your favor.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re on my side, right, James?” Thomas asks. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James snorts. “Yes, <em>dear.”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas smiles brightly at him and turns back to Angelica. “Let’s play.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He drops his first counter into the board, and Angelica counters, and so the game moves on. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>He beats Angelica.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He<em> beats Angelica.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron is acutely aware that his jaw has dropped. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James is looking amused as Thomas exults in his victory, while Angelica herself stares at the board, wide-eyed. <em>“Damn,”</em> she swears. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas waves a finger at her. “Language, Angie,” he admonishes laughingly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>“Don’t call me Angie,”</em> she warns. “Hamilton! Get your ass over here and beat Jefferson for me!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hamilton pops up out of nowhere, like a hummingbird on steroids. “Beat Jefferson? Sure, Angelica, you know I’m always happy to beat Jefferson- wait. You <em>lost?” </em>He looks comically surprised. “Angelica Schuyler <em>lost?”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Scared?” Thomas asks. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hamilton bares his teeth. “Never.” He falls into the chair just vacated by Angelica. “Let’s play, then.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>Thomas beats him too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hamilton splutters, glaring at the board indignantly. “But- but- how the<em> fuck-”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Maybe you should learn to respect your betters, Hamilton,” Thomas drawls. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And Aaron suddenly has a very, very cursed thought. “That was oddly sexually charged,” he mutters to James. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James grimaces. “Aaron, I was having a perfectly good time. I really did not need that mental image. Hamilton fucking is a no. Especially not <em>Thomas.”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron shrugs, unrepentantly. “Sorry not sorry-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“‘Bout what I said, I’m just trying to have some fun,” James sing-songs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“...you just have to make everything a reference, don’t you,” Aaron mutters.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James opens his mouth to retort, but Aaron is saved by Mr. Washington’s arrival on the scene. He silently thanks whatever gods are up there as Mr. Washington smiles jovially. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Is anyone up for a challenge?” He asks, and Thomas leaps out of his seat like his pants have been set on fire- setting Hamilton up for defeat, no doubt. Meh. It’s always amusing to watch Hamilton being beaten. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mr. Washington takes the vacated seat, anyway, and Hamilton’s eyes widen like he’s in some book. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh. Fuck,” he says succinctly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Because Mr. Washington is cool like that after exams, he lets the curse slip by. “Don’t be negative, Alexander.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s a bit hard, sir, considering I’m playing against <em>you-”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas preens slightly, somehow beside James again. “This should be fun.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James hums noncommittally, engrossed in his book. “Nice moves,” he says absently, and brushes his fingers over Thomas’ cheek affectionately, familiar and intimate. Aaron averts his eyes. He doesn’t know why.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas and James are just best friends. They’ve never been anything more.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>(one.)</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>Mr. Washington offers to play scissors-paper-stone to decide who starts first, and Hamilton wins. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Doesn't do him any good, of course. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hamilton is apparently an even bigger idiot than anyone thought he was, because he’s <em>careless</em> and Mr. Washington beats him even worse than Angelica did. To be fair, however, Mr. Washington is a math teacher, and a very good one at that. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Still. The trap could have been avoided fairly easily. Just stop Mr. Washington from making that cross formation with his counters, ever. Hamilton could’ve tied (not won, though, Mr. Washington is far too good for that). </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hamilton groans in defeat and scrambles out of his seat. “Come on, sir, play against someone else. Play against Angelica!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No thank you, sir!” Angelica calls from her seat a few feet away. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Burr, then,” Hamilton decides. There’s a distinctly sour look on his face. “He beat me.” He sends a dirty look at Aaron. “You’d <em>better</em> avenge me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>“Make</em> me, Hamilton,” Aaron retorts, but he slides into the empty seat</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Now<em> that</em> was oddly sexually charged,” James murmurs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, fuck off!” The both of them chorus.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas gets a slightly threatening look in his eyes, and Aaron decides to shut up before Bad Things happen. Aaron was witness to the one time someone was idiotic enough to be an ass to James Madison. George Frederick had decided to target the small, sickly, nerdy boy- yeah, that didn’t turn out so well for him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He got a black eye and a suspension and James got a public apology, because Thomas Jefferson holds a grudge very, <em>very</em> well when it comes to his best friend. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>So yeah. Even Hamilton is smart enough to shut his mouth, for once.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>(two.)</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But now Mr. Washington is looking at him, amused, and Aaron can’t help it- he audibly gulps. Hamilton snickers in the background as James shoots him a sympathetic look. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Scissors-paper-stone?” Mr. Washington says dryly. “You can beat me at that, at least.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron gulps again. He chooses stone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mr. Washington looks between Aaron’s closed fist and his own scissors sign, and mutters something under his breath. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron looks at Mr. Washington and very slowly puts his counter into the board.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>He gets beaten. Of course he does.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas takes his place, cheered on by Angelica and taunted by Hamilton, and of course he wins the scissors-paper-stone match (seriously, how is Mr. Washington this shitty at playing scissors-paper-stone?), and of course-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Wait.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Wait.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Holy fuck he tied. He <em>tied</em>. Thomas Jefferson, popular, jock, sporty, just tied with Mr. Washington in connect-4. He tied with their math teacher. What kind of world do they live in?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Well, a better world than one where Trump is president. They have Ellen Claremont, and she’s not perfect, but at least they don’t have, say: a global pandemic, people actually thinking of electing Trump, homophobic Destiel-)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Aaron tells his brain to shut up.) </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s too busy picking his jaw off the floor to think about horrible alternate universes. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mr. Washington looks pretty impressed. Hell, <em>Hamilton</em> looks impressed. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas just looks… determined. “Let’s play again, sir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mr. Washington raises an eyebrow, but concedes. The two play three more matches and tie in every single one. (Incidentally, Thomas wins every single scissors-paper-stone match.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Finally even Mr. Washington seems tired of it. “Thomas. If we’re going to do this again, you’d better up your game.” He drops one last counter into the board. Another tie.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas deflates. And then- oh no. Bad look. What the<em> fuck</em> is he planning?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas turns to James with an almost angelic smile, and says sweetly, “James, would you consider playing at all?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No,” is James’ succinct response. Mood, James. <em>Mood.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Please?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“No.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Why, I haven’t seen you play before, James,” Mr. Washington observes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s because I haven’t, and I have no intention to, sir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Damn. I was hoping to see how good you could play,” Mr. Washington muses.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Language,” James says mildly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“See, even Mr. Washington wants you to play, James!” Thomas wheedles.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thomas,<em> for the love of-”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The class is then treated to five minutes of Thomas and James arguing; or, Thomas pleading with James and James replying with a string of curses. It is, frankly, very amusing. Aaron is fairly sure that Angelica is writing down some of the swear words James is using. Who knew he could curse in that many languages?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Even Mr. Washington looks like he wants to laugh.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Finally, James gives in with a sigh. “Fine, you incorrigible bastard. I hate you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You love me,” Thomas sing-songs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I do, so help me, but I do,” James agrees, smiling strangely gently. And with that, he takes the seat, beats Mr. Washington at scissors-paper-stone, and starts playing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>(three.)</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>Two traps, five blocked connect-4s, and a lot of intense glaring later, James is victorious, and the whole class is, for once, stunned into silence.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mr. Washington is the one who breaks the silence eventually, with a great booming laugh. He claps James on the back like a proud father. “Well done, James.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James smiles slightly wider. “Thank you, sir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Must have taken a while, hm?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James shrugs. “I learned how to play connect-4 when I was five, sir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s my James,” Thomas says, and James blows him an air-kiss. Thomas catches it with a shit-eating grin-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And that’s when the class<em> erupts. </em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>The aftermath is messy and chaotic and exultant, celebrating their new hero, James<em> fucking</em> Madison; and Thomas Jefferson is at the center of it all. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James just looks bored. (Aaron can sympathize.) But he’s indulging his excited friend, it’s obvious. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron does not understand how James is friends with the energetic, arrogant, bouncy Thomas Jefferson most of the time, but there’s a certain spark in James’ eyes whenever he’s talking to Thomas, a spark that is never there otherwise, and Aaron really has no right to disdain their friendship. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(He <em>wonders,</em> though.) </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Well, soon enough the clamor dies down, and people go back to what they were doing before. James, however, stays in the connect-4 seat. No one dares to go up to him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>...Except, of course, Thomas Jefferson. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Be nice to me,” he says, almost flirtatiously.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James laughs in his face. “Of course not.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“Rude.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sorry,<em> love,”</em> James retorts. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I- okay,” Thomas murmurs, and is that a<em> flush</em> on his cheeks, oh my god, Aaron has no fucking idea what he’s watching right now. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>What the fuck?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Still better than destielputinelection, whatever the <em>hell</em> it is he was dreaming about last night.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>People start to gather as the two play scissors-paper-stone, tying three times before Thomas finally wins. And just like that- the game begins. Angelica finds her way to Aaron’s side, Hamilton trailing behind her with Laurens.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“This is going to be… interesting,” she observes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hamilton snorts. “<em>Interesting?</em> They look like they’re going to <em>kill</em> each other. Trouble in paradise.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron hums in agreement. Thomas, from what he can see, has already tried to set a trap, but has been blocked by James. Thomas is glaring now. James still looks bored. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Maybe they have a connect-4 kink,” Laurens muses, somehow managing to keep a straight (unlike the rest of him) face even as his eyes sparkle with mischief. Aaron chokes on air as Angelica slaps him and Hamilton starts helplessly laughing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Eliza will hear about this, John Laurens,” Angelica furiously whispers. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Laurens’ face loses any hint of mirth, giving way to outright fear. Very, very justified fear. “Angelica, I’m sorry, <em>please</em> don’t tell Eliza,” he begs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Angelica smiles dangerously and goes back to the game. Laurens shudders.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Over at the connect-4 table, Thomas and James are still going at it, and this is the most competitive game yet. <em>Definitely</em> the most sexually charged. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And he called <em>us</em> bad,” Aaron mutters to Hamilton.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Never thought I’d agree with you, Burr,” Hamilton mutters back, “but those two are being fucking disgusting. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re a dick, though.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron says something uncomplimentary that should not be repeated, and earns himself a dirty look from Angelica. He should <em>really </em>shut up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Luckily, before Angelica can slap him, they’re interrupted by a moan of utter despair. “Betrayed. Betrayed, by my own <em>boyfriend</em>- Jemmy, <em>how could you-” </em>Thomas drops his head into his hands. “When will justice be <em>served?”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Okay, that was an Oscar-worthy performance, Aaron will admit, but.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Boyfriend?</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The rest of the class is gaping. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James, for his part, is smiling innocently, unaware of the sudden silence (what is with James and causing sudden silences today?). He pats Thomas’ head condescendingly. “There, there.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, go <em>fuck</em> yourself!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron knows. He just <em>knows</em> what’s going to happen. He feels like dropping his head into his hands, too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James smiles, with teeth, and says, “That’s<em> your</em> job.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>(four.)</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron kind of wants to die. But jokes aside. How did they not realize sooner? It’s not like Thomas and James haven’t been obvious about it- the affectionate gestures, the protectiveness, the way they toss around ‘love’- </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The first time Aaron can remember James saying ‘love you’ to Thomas was six months ago, and he’s known them for what, six years? Sweet Jesus. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He should really pick his jaw back up from the floor.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Angelica is the first who manages to recover, because she’s Angelica Schuyler, and she splutters, “What the fuck? Since when are you <em>dating?”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“One month, two weeks, five days, and approximately… thirteen hours,” Thomas recites.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You came knocking on my door at <em>midnight,” </em>James mutters. “But was it not obvious?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Your friendship is weird, James,” Aaron points out, mostly recovered from the shock. “<em>Was.</em> I mean.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“...so you found out over a game of connect-4,” James concludes. “Awesome. <em>Wow.”</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Let’s prove it, then,” Thomas decides, and proceeds to try to kiss the living daylights out of James. Aaron covers his eyes. James makes a very small<em> noise </em>before he pushes Thomas away- Aaron breathes a sigh of relief as he hears Thomas yelp in protest, lifting his hands off his eyes and peeking cautiously. Thomas still looks like he wants to- </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Not finishing that sentence. No, Aaron. <em>No.)</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Oh god, they’re going to start fucking in bathrooms,</em> Aaron thinks hysterically.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Did you forget that you’re in my classroom?” Mr. Washington asks.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Thomas shrugs unrepentantly. “Maybe, sir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>James sighs in Great Disappointment. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p> </p>
  <p>Aaron tells Theodosia about it over coffee and pastries at the little café they frequent, talking about the sheer horror.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Theodosia has absolutely no sympathy. “Poor you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re supposed to be on my side, ‘Dosia,” Aaron whines. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She laughs, and wow she’s <em>beautiful,</em> how did he get her as his girlfriend? “Sorry, dear. How about I come over and kick their asses for you tomorrow? I can do that. At connect-4, though, considering I don’t want a stained record.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Is that allowed?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She shrugs. “Mr. Franklin is dead inside, and Mr. Washington likes me after that project I helped him with.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Alright, then,” Aaron says, and smiles brightly. “What would I do without you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nothing,” Theodosia declares, and takes a sip of coffee. “But I love you, you dork.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Love you too,” Aaron says, and kisses her on the cheek. He’s rewarded with a smile, and he is so in<em> love</em> with this girl.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They drink coffee and eat the little fruit tarts that they both love and kiss again and again and again, and Aaron pushes everything else to the back of his mind. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>True to her word, Theodosia shows up in his classroom the next day, and proceeds to beat Thomas and James at connect-4, and then the rest of them too. She absolutely <em>destroys</em> Hamilton. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aaron laughs and says adoringly, “That’s my girlfriend.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sorry, <em>what?”</em> Angelica asks him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Oh. They didn’t know that either, huh?</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, this scenario is inspired by real life. I do not, however, have a secret significant other, which is a shame because shocking people is fun.<br/>Yes, my math teacher really was that shitty at scissors-paper-stone.<br/>Yes, I did imply that they live in the RWRB-verse and that our universe is but a figment of Aaron’s imagination. Can you blame me?<br/>Yes, I did tag this “connect-fore-play”, you can blame my friend Angelica for that. You should, however, blame me for the “connect-4 as foreplay” tag.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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